


Rich and Eds Make a Move

by blondekaspbrak



Series: Together n’ Safe [1]
Category: IT (1990), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Amputee Eddie Kaspbrak, Blonde Eddie Kaspbrak, Cuddling, Disabled Eddie Kaspbrak, Domestic, First Kiss, Fix-it fic, Fluff, I’ve written certain aspects of both canons into this, M/M, Reddie, This is book or miniseries ONLY
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:14:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23975077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blondekaspbrak/pseuds/blondekaspbrak
Summary: "What's goin' on in that funny head of yours?" Eddie moves his thumb across Richie's forehead, just like he's touchin' the silk at the market back in New York, all delicate n' gentle, revelling in the sensation.Richie looks up at him from where he lays in the grass with a grin, toothier than any Eddie's seen on Richie's mouth since they arrived back in this town n' it's reminiscent of a specific expression he remembers from his childhood that is just so Richie—he's reminded of ice cream dripping over dainty fingers n' lips chapped from the dry heat, sticky with candy.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Patricia Blum Uris/Stanley Uris (mentioned)
Series: Together n’ Safe [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1916728
Comments: 4
Kudos: 57





	Rich and Eds Make a Move

**Author's Note:**

> so this fic is a gift to @the-antman for the @it-fandom-exchange event! i hope i was able to create something domestic and enjoyable to read!

**_September 27th, 1984. Derry, Maine. The Hanlon Farm Fields._ **

"What's goin' on in that funny head of yours?" Eddie moves his thumb across Richie's forehead, just like he's touchin' the silk at the market back in New York, all delicate n' gentle, revelling in the sensation.

Richie looks up at him from where he lays in the grass with a grin, toothier than any Eddie's seen on Richie's mouth since they arrived back in this town n' it's reminiscent of a specific expression he remembers from his childhood that is just so Richie—he's reminded of ice cream dripping over dainty fingers n' lips chapped from the dry heat, sticky with candy.

"Just a bit sore between the ears, Eds." He knocks the side of his head comically n' Eddie slides his palm beneath Richie's head, as he lifts it into his lap. It's better that Richie rests his head in Eddie's lap rather than on the grass, Eddie thinks, it's more comfortable—even if Eddie knows that the ache in Richie's head isn't physical.

Eddie pets Richie's hair back from his forehead, n' watches his milky skin catch the warmth of the July sun, "I know, Rich, wanna talk about it?" Richie cacchinates, n' thinks on the pet name, he thinks warmly of it—maybe it's one Eddie might've used in their teens, but it's still fuzzy.

"Do you think we'll forget this time?" The question lingers in the air, in Eddie's ears, for several moments as he moves his finger to stroke over the bridge of Richie's nose. Richie goes cross-eyed trying to watch his finger n' Eddie laughs, a real laugh, n' realises that he doesn't remember the last time he felt honestly happy enough to do so—not with Ma, not with Marty, not with his work friends. "I don't want to forget." Richie murmurs afterwards, azure irises masked over by his eyelids.

"I don't want to forget either, an' I have a feeling we won't." Eddie rests his head back against the trunk of the tree, doesn't stop stroking Richie's face n' petting his hair in a way that feels so specifically intimate, in a way he's never done before. "Hopefully, we'll remember the good things an' eventually the pain will fade. We were forced apart an' into unhappy lives for nearly three decades, an' I don't know about the others but I could always feel it—I always felt this weight on my chest, of knowing that something wasn't right."

"I felt it, too."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm. Since leaving this shithole the first time, I've been living in LA, I've got a radio show n' a comedy gig on the side n' even though I love doing those things it's never felt like enough, even though it's the life I've always wanted. I thought there was something wrong with me." Richie shrugs, "It never even occurred to me that I couldn't remember where I'd grown up."

"I was always happiest with you guys. I think all of my memories are back now since we've been here for a few months, an' I hope I can keep them when we leave." Richie blows a lock of hair out of his own eyes n' struggled a little to sit up with the pain in his legs but gets there, crossing them 'in a basket', directly facing Eddie. It seems his hyper energy has returned after a few hours of sitting out here in perfect serenity.

"All you needed was to see your old pal Richie!" Richie dives into an impression of an old radio announcer, "Lean, one-armed-machine Eddie Kaspbrak absolutely brand new after saucy reunion with hot-shot Richie Tozier!" He boops Eddie's nose, watching the blood rush into his cheeks as he giggles coyly.

"Maybe." Eddie shrugs slightly, smiling in Richie's direction. Richie composes himself a little, n' places a tentative hand on Eddie's knee, keeping it strictly in one place so that Eddie doesn't end up uncomfortable.

"Listen, Eds, I..." Richie sighs, looking to Eddie's eyes through the blond's round spectacles. "I've spent my whole adult life wanting something that I wasn't sure I could really have. I've been looking for fellas since I moved to California on the down-low n' I don't know... I could never really find someone I wanted n' I think I realised why when we came back here."

"Oh, yeah?" Eddie asks, pushing his glasses up a little. He just smiles warmly, doesn't comment on Richie’s confession. "You can tell me, if you want."

Richie sighs, trailing his finger across Eddie's knee n' back to where he started, glancing up at him. He gives an encouraging nod, n' Richie wonders briefly how he ever could have forgotten him. "Don't wanna make you all jittery, Eds, ya probably won't like what I have to say."

"It's okay, say it anyway." Eddie shakes his head, still beaming, "I don't think you can say anything that'll scare me, not after everything we've seen."

Richie opens his mouth, but decides to shut it again. He begins tapping his finger against Eddie's knee subconsciously, n' Eddie brings his only hand to rest on top of Richie's, gently bringing his tapping to a halt. Richie considers for a moment, n' then turns his hand over so his palm slides against Eddie's. The blond's eyebrows shoot up past his dandelion curls, but he doesn't move his hand, waiting for Richie to do something else.

"Eds..."

"Yeah, Rich?" His voice is soft like Richie's cotton bed sheets at home, Richie wants to wrap himself up in the comfort of it to avoid the cumbersome weight of the conversation most likely following. But Eddie's still looking at him, a rhapsodic smile slowly forming over his lips, Richie's not sure it's even there at first. N' suddenly, there's a hand on his forearm, his bicep, his shoulder, his neck, n' then he's being kissed on the mouth. It's sweet-tempered n' careful n' once the initial shock wears off, Richie thinks it makes sense. Eddie's always been so brave, willing to take risks even if the outcome may not be in his favour. He's always been gentle, too—Richie often wondered, as a teen, if Eddie kissed with as much solicitude as he treated his friends with.

Richie doesn't have a lot of time to return Eddie's affections before the man in question lets their lips depart from each other with a soft click, n' his hand slips from Richie's jaw. "M' sorry if that was too forward, it just seemed like that's where you were going an' needed a bit of help." Eddie pushes his glasses up from where they'd slid down his nose, looking a little blissed out.

"Come to California."

"California? You want me to go with you?"

Richie clasps Eddie's hand in both of his own, squeezing it gently, "Please, Eds, come live with me, I don't want to be apart from you again. I have so much space, a spare bedroom if you want it. You'd live like a king, I promise."

Eddie huffs out a soft, astonished laugh, "Really? Rich, I couldn't invade your life like that, it sounds like a huge change for you. Even then, I'm the owner of a company in New York."

"You could move your company to Los Angeles, I can get in touch with someone who can help with the details. Besides, there's plenty of celebrities looking for limos in LA. I want you there, Eds." Richie sighs softly, "Down in the cistern, I thought you were going to die. In the hospital, when you wouldn't wake up for hours, it was the worst I've ever felt. I don't want to feel like that again. So if you'd like to, I want you to live with me."

"Okay... okay, I'll go with you." This time, it's Richie who goes in for a kiss. He cups Eddie's face in his hands n' brings their lips together, making sure to be gentle. He feels Eddie beaming against his mouth, n' he thinks this is maybe the greatest he's ever felt in his life. The way he feels, it's warm n' glowing n' fuzzy n' he knows that this is what he's wanted his entire life. Ever since the summers of his youth, when he was running free, full of July sunshine and orange pulp, n' his hand was in that of another's, the same hand holding onto his at this very moment.

"You sure? You really want to come with me?" Richie asks when they part, cupping his hand under Eddie's elbow n' leaving the other on Eddie's face.

"Being back here, it's made me realise I don't wanna be in New York, I don't belong with Myra. I don't think I was really sure who I did belong with until, well, right now," Eddie smiles coyly, "but now that I know, it makes sense—you were always different to me." Richie grins, sliding his hand up to drape over the back of Eddie's so that he can lean in n' kiss the skin on the inside of his wrist. "Jeez, Rich, you're gonna make me go bananas."

That comment receives him a gentle pinch of the cheek n' an exclamation of, "Cute, cute, cute!" Eddie doesn't pull away like he used to, embarrassed, n' instead just laughs, his cheeks warming fast. Richie's face softens, he looks so pleased that he was able to make Eddie laugh. He cups Eddie's face in his hands, turning his head a little so he can press a kiss to the blond's cheekbone.

"Your moustache tickles!" Eddie giggles light n’ airy, snorting quietly n' gasping out of surprise when he does. He whines, covering his flushing face with two hands, obviously embarrassed. Richie's eyes light up, n’ he gently pries Eddie's hands away from his face, grinning.

"That is so cute, Eds, I forgot you do that." Richie realises with a pang that he's missed that noise all this time. He remembers teasing Eddie gently for it in their childhood, n' kissing his cheek when his face turned red n' he pouted at Richie's words.

"Okay, Rich, let's go back to the townhouse before I explode." Eddie pats his own cheeks in what Richie assumes is some sort of attempt to rid himself of the redness in his face. The taller of the two stands up with Eddie’s help, n' gets his crutches underneath his arms to stabilise himself. He waits for Eddie to stand, too, letting his large hands come to rest on Eddie's waist, making his body look much more dainty. It’s a little awkward trying to get Eddie up against the tree with crutches but the blonde makes it easier on him, learning back against the tree himself n’ pulling Richie into him, letting him lean in for another kiss. Eddie accepts it immediately, laughing into Richie's mouth when Richie tugs gently on his suspenders to pull him just that bit closer.

"Sorry, Eds, jus' wanted one more before we had to go back to the losers." Richie murmurs, n' Eddie softens a little more if that's even possible, kisses the corner of his mouth, then clicks their lips back into place together for a brief moment. "You're swell." Richie sighs, smiling all dopey n' euphoric-like.

"You know I think you are, too." Eddie squeezes Richie's shoulder, hand sliding upwards to cup the side of his neck. Richie loves Eddie's voice, thinks that if it were a shape, it'd be something with gentle curves. "Now, the losers are probably expecting us to be back soon, we've been away for hours. C'mon." Richie finally lets go of Eddie's suspenders, kissing his cheek once more before stepping back.

They walk back to the townhouse, not in any sort of rush, just enjoying one another's company until they have to face their friends again n' finally separate their hands. "You wanna maybe... spend the night with me?" Eddie asks as they approach the townhouse, "I'm not expecting anything—I jus'... I really liked spending time with you this way." He adds quickly, realising how it might sound.

Richie chuckles, pinching Eddie's cheek, "Of course, my love, I would enjoy nothing more." He brings Eddie's hand to his mouth, kissing his knuckles n' slowly, reluctantly, letting go of it. Eddie gives him a bitter-sweet, understanding smile, n' they make their way inside the town house, ready to face their friends again.

They're welcomed back with smiles n' alcohol from behind the bar that no one ever tended to. They talk into the small hours of the night, reminiscing on their childhoods together, times when they weren't being tormented by a murderous clown—Richie n’ Eddie sparing soft glances towards each other when no one's looking. Slowly, they all start to retreat back to their rooms one by one, until only Stan, Eddie n’ Richie are left.

"Alright, I think it's time for me to go to bed. I have to make some calls which'll probably take some time." Eddie tells them softly, standing up from the sofa, n' setting his almost empty glass of white wine down on the bar. "I'll see you tomorrow, g'night."

Richie watches him walk up the stairs, disappearing around the corner before turning back to Stan, who's been watching him from behind his glass, eyebrow raised. "What's up, Staniel?"

"Nothing." Stan blows one of his curls out of his eyes, sipping at his wine n' waving him off. "Can I ask you something?"

Richie grins, n' it spreads far enough to reach his eyes, "Well, sure you can, what's up?"

"When we all leave Derry, are you planning on going back to California alone?"

Richie's brow furrows, "I'm not sure I follow, Stanny."

"Come on, Richie. I'm not as oblivious as the others, give me some credit here." Richie chews at the inside of his lip, averting his eyes. "Listen, we don't have to talk about it now, or ever, if that's what you want. But I think whatever it is you have with Eddie, you should pursue it. I don't know how long you've felt this way, but I'm guessing it's been a really long time." His friend doesn't say anything, just sighs n' nods slowly. "You deserve a win right now, it's been rough being back here."

"Really?"

"Of course. I love Patty more than I've ever loved someone before, I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have her. You should be able to openly say that about whoever you love, too." Stan simpers, standing from his chair, "I'm going to get some sleep, and you're going to go an’ see Eddie because, my God, it's been physically painfully watching you too make sappy eyes at each other all night."

"Alright, Staniel, I will." Richie chuckles, shaking his head at his words, "Could you maybe do me a favour? I wouldn't usually ask you to keep things from the other losers, but would it be okay if you didn't tell them about this? Me n' Eds, we're not ready for that."

"Yeah, don't worry, Richie. I wouldn't say anything regardless." Stan pats Richie's shoulder, "I'll see you in the morning."

"G'night, Stan." Richie waits until Stan makes his way upstairs n' disappears around the corner to retreat to his room for night before quietly making his way to the elevator. The ride is very short, n’ he thinks that the elevator might have been a waste of what must’ve already been a very small budget, but he’s glad it’s there. Struggling up the stairs doesn’t seem exactly pleasant. He walks slowly, n’ silently, so that none of the losers peek out of their rooms to catch him sneaking into Eddie's. He knocks softly against the wood n' he only has to wait for a moment before Eddie opens the door, phone pressed between his ear n' his shoulder, a smile growing on his mouth when he sees that it's Richie. He opens the door and motions for him to come in n’ sit down. He's already changed into his pyjamas, n’ he crosses the room to his suitcase, lifting out a pair of sweatpants n' turning them around to offer to Richie. He's muttering quietly into the phone as he does so, clearly stressed by whatever the person on the other end of the line is saying.

He turns away while Richie sits down on the bed to change out of his clothes n' into the sweatpants; they're a little snug, but he'll take them over having to go back to his room to change. Once he's changed, Eddie comes back to him, n' climbs under the bed comforter, motioning for Richie to sit his crutches down n’ join him. "I know, Myra, I'm sorry. But you know that staying together would be unfair to both of us." He sighs, voice quiet, almost guilty.

It finally dawns on Richie, n' so he slowly lays down next to Eddie, on his side, arm tucked beneath his own cheek. "Please, listen to me, Marty. I'll explain myself tomorrow, you can have whatever you want when we separate, but I won't be coming back home to stay. It's really late, I'm going to get some sleep and you should, too. I'll call you again tomorrow." There's a few moments where he doesn't speak, listens to whatever his soon-to-be ex-wife says, n' then hangs up the phone, dropping it onto the bedside table n' lying back down, mirroring Richie’s position. 

"Y'alright, Eds?" The frown lines on Eddie’s face finally smooth out as Richie pulls the comforter up and over their shoulders, keeping them warm.

"Yeah, I'm okay, Rich. Myra's just a little hard to shake, that's all." He tells him under his breath, finally feeling the aching flood out from within. "I'll deal with it, tomorrow, I jus' wanna sleep right now, is that okay?"

"Of course, it's okay. I'll be here with you tomorrow." Richie chuckles, reaching over n’ pressing his fingers gently into Eddie's side, eliciting a giggle from him, light n' airy n' euphoric. Eddie grabs his hand to stop him, but ultimately keeps his hand there, smiling openly as he catches his breath.

"Thank you, Rich, being back here's been... a little crazy, but I'm glad we all came back." The blonde yawns, finally settling with his hand tucked away beneath the cool pillow, light breaths fanning across Richie’s wrist. Richie doesn't mind; it's a reminder that Eddie's here, breathing, alive.

"Me too, Eds."


End file.
